On Death and Planet Life
by robbobert
Summary: A victim of circumstance, Red XIII expounds upon his views of the Study of Planet Life and deals with disillusionment in the waning years of his life.


On Death and Planet Life

My name is Nanaki, and as I speak, a fog descends. It has been long in coming, and though I have seen it in days past, I have always managed to set it in my wake. Yet now, of its own will, it descends. A question keeps repeating itself in my head: Why? Why now? Is it finally the right time? Then why this feeling? My entire life I have been guided by my own intuition, and now… It shouldn't be here. I wish it were different.

There is a truth I discovered sometime during the course of my life, and it is only now that I have come to fully understand it. Somewhere along the line, humans laid upon the simple scheme of life a shroud of reason and purpose to all that is. From that point forward, the most rational and irrational minds of the entirety of the species imbued the world with this reason, and quickly it became that nothing could exist without a cause – a greater role in the grand scheme. The delusion persists even to this day, and any attempts to remove the veil have met invariably with resistance of the utmost ferocity.

Where this dire conviction has come from remains a mystery to me, but I do know that I was not immune to its sway. Perhaps it was the mere perpetuation of the myth by successive generations that set it so concretely in our consciousness. Or could it be that it's merely a desire inherent to the human mind that some greater benevolent force exist…that there be a consciousness of which we all are a part and which looks and cares after us all? Or is it just that the thought of returning to a planet that is indifferent to one's own existence is profoundly frightening to the mortal mind? As I have just stated, I do not know why the word "purpose" has been so entrenched into our minds, but I can see that it has mislead the world. I have been witness to the bastardization of the Study of Planet Life, and until recently, I played my role in upholding its decline.

To make my point clear, I've come to realize that Planet Life is a cold thing. There has been in the public eye for as long as I can remember a certain empowering mystique that surrounds it, but that notion is misguided at best, profane at worst. Planet life is not about the beauty of the world or the grandeur of the Lifestream. It is not about consciousness, or happiness, or life. It's about death. Destruction. The cold, hard mechanics that drive this world. Happiness…beauty… They are fabrications. Constructions of the conscious mind. A means to an end. After all, what is the dancing of the aurora across the night sky to an insect but a simple stimulus? A series of photons striking photoreceptive cells in the eye, and nothing more. A simple stimulus.

The overriding question surrounding the Study of Planet Life has been lost over the years. It has become a question of good versus evil, of light versus dark, and of the purpose behind the flow of the Lifestream. A question of purpose. Why does the Lifestream exist and what force controls its flow? I do not deny there is scientific value to be had in the answers to these questions. What I deny are the logic and framework which led to their presentation. That the Lifestream has a bent toward goodness and righteousness – a belief which long ago became a staple of the Study of Planet Life – leaves me utterly perplexed. Further, the notion that there is a guiding force behind the actions of the Lifestream, a higher consciousness if you will, has become an idea so detestable in my mind that I can hardly speak of it now with any modicum of respect at all. The truth is obvious, but the inhabitants of this planet, held in a state of hollow stupor, refuse to see it.

…Perhaps I am too harsh. It may be that my failures in life have clouded my judgement… Warped it from its prior state. There was a time, after all, that I believed in the will of the Planet. I believed in its good intentions and in its desire to protect and shelter us from the dark. Grandfather raised me to believe no other truth, and he raised me well. But here I stand… Perhaps I thought I deserved more. Compensation for filling my role in the great flow of Planet Life. For my treatment at the hands of humanity. For trusting in the will of the planet. And yet it all remains the same. The planet gives, and far too often it takes away. My own sense of entitlement means nothing in the eyes of the void.

And perhaps, even, I was foolish ever to have thought there was a consciousness that drove the planet to begin with. The science underlying the Study of Planet Life screams out how ridiculous the proposition is. Yet I was no different than any other. I always felt… There had to be more to it­—a reason behind the science. Otherwise, why should we be gifted with consciousness or life? Why be gifted with intelligence enough to make discoveries and advance as a civilization? Why live 600 years if not for a reason? To make some impact. To change the world and make it a better place. I thought for a time there was a reason, but in losing to the planet my mate, my children, and all those who ever cared about me, the truth of things has been made apparent. We are born alone, and we die alone. There is no comeuppance, no compensation, no justice, and there is no reason. We all are but insects on a rock, and nothing more.

…I will die soon—I can feel it in my bones, my heart, and every other fiber of my being. I am tired. And when I am gone, what will remain? A legacy is useless with no one to pass it on. My children, indeed my entire family is dead, and I am alone. I will be forgotten, lost in a sea of faces whose origins span millennia. All for naught. Justice would have me die in the company of those I love and those who love me. Reason would have the harm done to me by my past as justification. And purpose would allow a species wiped unjustly from the face of the Planet to live on, at least for a time, under its own sovereignty. And yet here I stand. Six hundred years will die with me.

As the fog descends, I'm left to wonder… Why? And ultimately I can come to no conclusion. I wish it were different. My faith, my family, my happiness. Were I able to believe, I could die happy.


End file.
